A Friend for John
by Locked-Code
Summary: Mycroft needed someone to watch a teenage girl whose parents left some valuable information. John needs something stable in his life again. It's really killing two birds with one stone. They manage to settle into a routine. But, what happens when a ghost comes back to life? - Post-Fall - Slash
1. Chapter 1

Mycroft furrowed his brow in thought as he looked at the girl sitting across from him. Her eyes were red from crying, which was understandable, but she met his gaze with a cold calculating scowl. "Where am I going?" she asked.

"You are going to stay with your aunt, Martha Hudson," he sighed.

"I don't have any aunts. My father was an only child and Mum was the only girl in her family," she replied, "And their last names were Muarry and Morstan. Who are you? And tell me the truth this time."

Mycroft looked in to the green eyes. How had she known he had lied? No one, save one, could spot him in a lie. "As I said before, I am a minor government official…"

She snorted, "Minor? If you are minor, then I'm a teabag."

Mycroft cleared his throat and tried again, "As far as you are concerned, I _am_ a minor official. I am to help you disappear. We think there may be people who want you…"

"Dead?" she asked, "Because of what Mum did, she worked in the Department of Transport."

"Shut up and let me finish…please," Mycroft growled, "That was a cover she worked in the Home Office and partly with both MI-5 and MI-6 on a freelance basis. She was, for lack of a better term, a spy. She discovered something that got her in trouble. The agents that were after her think she sent whatever information she found to you, and now you are in danger." He saw the look of shock pass over her face.

"So those trips to rural farms… and all the things she taught me…"

"I understand it is a lot to take in, but we are in a hurry. Althea will take you now."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Mycroft pressed 2 on his speed dial. The man on the other end answered on the second ring. "I found someone. I'm taking her to see him in an hour."

"Good," came the curt reply, "and, well, thanks. It means a lot."

"You're welcome," said Mycroft, a bit surprised by the thanks.

oOoOoOoOoOo

The next time he saw the girl her long blonde hair had been dyed brown and cut to shoulder length. It did make her look different, which was the whole point. In the car, she put in ear buds to drown out the adults talking and stared at the London streets going by.

"Are you sure about this?" Alora asked.

"No," admitted Mycroft, "but she needs somewhere to go and he won't let me sleep until John has someone again."

"I think she needs someone too. She reminds me of him, more socially aware, but she read my mood in one glance, and she knew you weren't a nobody."

"Of course I did," the girl replied, "no bodies don't have watches that were a gift from the Queen. Am I allowed to keep my name, you never said."

Mycroft was startled. He had thought she couldn't hear, but he replied calmly. "You can keep Mary, but it would be easier for us if you used your father's name. Mary Morstan is on all your old documents. Ah, here we are."

The now Mary Muarry walked up to the door, and stood back as Mycroft knocked. The door to 221B opened and a lady opened it. "Oh, thank goodness you're here. He's locked the doors again and won't let me in."


	2. Chapter 2

Mary watched Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson knock gingerly on the door. "John, dear?" called Mrs. Hudson, "Mycroft needs to talk to you."

"I'm still alive."

"Please, dear?"

"The door is locked," came the reply.

Mrs. Hudson sighed, "Well, at least come have some tea. I really don't know what to do, Mycroft."

Mary watched them walk into Mrs. Hudson's kitchen before tiptoeing up the stairs. She knocked softly, and when she heard no response took out a hairpin.

John heard the lock click. That was odd. Mrs. Hudson usually tried at least three times before getting the master key.

"Hello?" a voice called. That was not Mrs. Hudson's voice. "Um, John, right, John Watson?"

He turned. There was a girl standing in his living room. He blinked. She stood still. He blinked again. She was still there. So, she was real.

"When was the last time you showered?" she sniffed.

John started. Shower? He hadn't since he last slept. "A week?" he croaked.

"Okay," he could tell she was thinking, "Go shower, please. You're clearly a doctor, if out of practice and you know how unhygienic it is to not wash. I'll clean the kitchen while you get dressed into real clothes, not pajamas, and then we will both go have tea with Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft."

John's brain sluggishly processed her words. Then, to his surprise, he stood up and walked to the bathroom. He showered, even brushed his teeth and shaved. When he reentered the sitting room, the old food had been taken out and thrown away, the counters no longer had crusty stains from who knows what, and the dishwasher was humming.

"John Watson," he stuck out his hand.

"Mary Muarry," she replied.

"Is that your real name?"

"Sort of," she smiled, "I'll tell you if I decide to trust you. You need milk."

John stared for a second at the space above her left ear. He made a slight choking sound. "I…come with me." His eyes begged.

Taken aback, Mary nodded. "Sure."

oOoOoOoOoOo

Althea watched as John and Mary walked to the corner store.

_I'm not sure what you expected to happen, but it worked. - A_

_What do you mean? - MH_

_They're getting milk. - A_

_Are they in danger? - A_

_I'll explain everything to him eventually. - MH_


	3. Chapter 3

John walked in to the kitchen to the almost, but not quiet, familiar image of Mary making breakfast. Well, 'breakfast' assumed that one had been sleeping. John had been her temporary legal guardian for a week, and he was still getting used to her oddities.  
She didn't sleep in a regular pattern. Instead of sleeping for seven hours at night, Mary would take four two hour naps in a 24 hour period. It seemed to work, but John couldn't fathom how she had gotten into this pattern.

Mary was also very good at reading people. Not in the same way that Sherlock could, but in the movements of their face. She could tell if someone was lying almost instantly. Paired with her uncanny observational skills, she could deduce almost as well as a Holmes.  
John snapped back as Mary put tea into his hand and smiled. She had gotten donuts. He noticed that she only got donuts when he had particularly bad nightmares. She was awake for most of the night and could hear him through the walls at night. The donuts were her way of asking if he was okay. He grabbed two and picked up the paper.

She was so understanding of him. She knew what he needed her to bring up and what he needed to be ignored for now. He wasn't as good with her. He knew she had lost her mother, violently, recently. But, she didn't talk about it, and he didn't know how to bring it up. She had nightmares; he could hear her scream in her sleep. Mycroft had said that she needed protecting but not from what. John wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Mary sat opposite him at the small table. She looked at him. He knew that look all to well; she was judging his mood.

"Ella called."

"Oh?"

"She wants to know how the party planning is coming along."

John swore. He'd forgotten with Mary's arrival that Ella had 'suggested' he host a get together with some friends to help with the grieving process. It was supposed to remind him that there were still people he cared about in the world. "Right, um, what did you say?"

"That you were planning to have it soon. I'll help you get ready for it."

"Well, I was thinking of having it…"

"Never?" she grinned.

"Erm, Saturday next week?"

"Sound great. That gives us eight days to plan. I love parties. My mum and I…" she trailed off.

John put his hand on hers and squeezed. She looked up at him. They stayed like that for a little while, just knowing that there was someone else in the world who cared.

Later, John realized that, even though he didn't know what to do with the teenage girl, he was happy she came to 221B.

**A/N: Thanks to BarbaraK1 for the review. It really does mean a lot.**


	4. Chapter 4

"So, how is the party planning going?"

John looked at his therapist. No questions about Sherlock today. He could handle this. "Fine. I think Mary is enjoying it more than me though."

Ella nodded and wrote something in her notes. "And how do you feel about her?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do feel about the fact that she is in your life?"

"I'm glad she's there. I can't imagine life without her now. It's been less than two weeks. She reminds me of him. Intelligent. Not afraid to speak her mind. She has better social skills that him though. She makes me eat. I make her talk."

"Good. I'm afraid that this is the end of our session today," Ella sighed as the doctor got up to leave. He was defiantly one of her most challenging cases.

John walked home. Normally he would take a cab, but today he felt like walking. It wasn't very far.

When he arrived at the flat, he instantly knew something was wrong the door was unlocked. Mrs. Hudson would never leave the door open. Neither would Mary. It wasn't safe; there were people after her, and him.

He ran up the stairs. He would never forget the sight of the living room. Papers were strewn everywhere. Mary was sitting on the couch. The gun in her hands was pointed at a man tied to one of the kitchen chairs, unconscious.

"What happened?"

"I came home and he was searching the flat. I waited for him to go into my bedroom and I hit him over the head with a frying pan and knocked him out. Then I tied him to the chair, called Mycroft, and got the gun in case he gets out once he wakes up."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"You were at Ella's. You always turn your phone off."

The man groaned. Mary stiffened and re aimed. John walked over and examined him. "Severe concussion. Broken nose. How hard did you hit him?"

"Pretty hard," she shrugged.

Mycroft knocked and let himself in. John had left the door wide open. "Well, I guess we don't have to worry about Mary being able to handle herself do we," he smirked. Mycroft took the dazed man away. Before he left Mary shot John a meaningful look.

"Oh! Mycroft we're having a little get together. Do you want to come?" John asked.

"If I can get away," Mycroft replied and closed the door behind him.

John threw his arms around Mary. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?" The words stumbled out of his mouth.

"I'm fine. Are you okay?"

John nodded. "Take-out for dinner?"

"Sounds good. I don't really feel like cooking now."

They had settled in for a Doctor Who marathon when John realized something. "We never told Mycroft when the party is!"

"He's Mycroft. I'm sure he knows," Mary laughed.

John laughed too. Soon they were both in stitches. Once they calmed down, John had to ask, "A frying pan?"

"It was the closest thing I could grab," she shrugged.

John tried to hold in his giggles. Mary looked over at him thinking he was choking on a piece of chicken. They made eye contact. Neither stopped laughing for at least an hour.

**A/N: Thanks to Ryebred for the review!**


	5. Chapter 5

The day of the party went smoothly. Mostly. When they had decided on the day, neither realized that it was exactly one month after the day Mary arrived at 221B. Mary didn't talk much over breakfast, and John knew that she was going deep into her mind.

"Mary?"

She started.

"Are you okay? Do you want to cancel?"

"No. I'm… I will be fine. It's just…"

The rest of the day Mary spent in the kitchen or 221C. John didn't know what she did down there, but whenever he went to ask, something would distract him. He could knew she needed space today. She'd tell him what was bothering her when she was ready.

The smell of food filled the flat. John thought he could smell cake baking, but when he went to look Mary shooed him out. "The kitchen is small enough with out you in it too."

John had told people to arrive at about six. Actually, he hadn't known who to invite. He'd lost contact with a lot of people after Sherlock…fell. Lestrade and Molly were coming. Mycroft might show, and Mrs. Hudson said she would pop up at some point. He'd asked Mary if there was anyone she wanted to invite. "I don't know anyone. All my friends think I died in a plane crash with my mother a month ago." So it would be a very small party.

Lastrade was the first to arrive. He saw Mary but didn't question why there was a teenage girl.

"John, how are you?"

"I'm good, Greg. This is Mary. She's my…" John shot a look of panic at Mary.

"Um, mother's cousin's niece's daughter?" Mary offered.

"She moved in a month ago. I'm her temporary guardian," John explained.

Before Lestrade could ask any more questions, there was a knock at the door. John went and reentered with Molly. After the proper introductions and John offered everyone drinks, Mary brought out appetizers. She and Mycroft came in at the same time. He had obviously just let himself in. Anthea followed typing of her BlackBerry as always.

"Mycroft!" Mary scolded as she came out with more food, "How many people have you kidnapped in this room?"

Everyone blinked in surprise. They had all (except for Anthea and technically Mary) been taken to a warehouse by that black car. Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. Lestrade and Molly looked at each other incredulously; how had she known?

They made small talk for about half an hour when Mary announced that dinner was ready. The food was excellent and the conversation lively. John and Lestrade told stories of some of the stranger cases they had seen. Mycroft actually laughed once. Molly and Mary bonded over some vampire television show. Anthea even put down her BlackBerry. At 8:30, Mary brought out the cake.

They moved into the living room. John convinced Mrs. Hudson to come up and play Scene-it with them. At nine, Mary went to bed. "If you leave before I wake up, good bye. I hope you had fun."

"She's on a strange sleeping pattern," explained John, "She sleeps for two hours out of every six. So now she'll sleep till 11 and will go back to bed at 3."

"Makes sense," said Mycroft.

"What do you mean?" asked Molly.

"Considering her mother, I'm not surprised," added Anthea.

"Please explain," sighed Lestrade.

Mycorft looked first at Anthea, then John. "Okay."

**A/N: Thanks to Theta-Mcbride for the review!**


	6. Chapter 6

"To fully understand, we must start before Mary was born."

"Her mother had been working for us for about four years. She went on vacation to Cancun or something. She met a man one night. It was a one-night stand. They traded numbers and left; neither planned to see the other ever again. Her mother got pregnant."

"As far as we know there was no custody battle. The father was American, so the two of them would fly over about twice a year. They never tried to date; basically they were friends who happened to also have a daughter. The father married and led a relatively normal life."

"Mary's mother was not normal. She was the second best agent we had. For a while she only did domestic jobs, always within a day's journey to their house. Then, when Mary was about four her mother started going on missions in Europe as well. By the time Mary was six, she was traveling all over the world again. We don't know who watched Mary during this time."

"About six years ago, she stayed home by herself when her mother left. I think she's been taking care of herself ever since. I think the sleeping pattern comes from her wanting to be awake when her mother finally came home."

Everyone was silent.

A car alarm went off.

There was a siren in the distance.

Mary cleared her throat.

"Basically, yes, all that is true. It's amazing what you don't know though."

"My mother trained me from an early age. I was taught self-defense from the age of two. She taught me how to read a person in their clothes and how to tell if they were lying. She made me fluent in French, German, Spanish, Mandarin, and BSL. I can get by in Portuguese, Japanese, ASL and Russian. She even taught me how to hack into computer systems. She trained me to be an agent. The sleeping pattern is a part of that. I'm always at peak energy. If I miss sleep it's easy to catch up."

"I never went to school after I was six. I had a stay at home tutor. Six years ago, when I was ten, I took my GCSEs. I got all A*s except for English. That was an B. I took my A-level courses online; my tutor left. I took Biology, Chemistry, and French when I was twelve, and Spanish, German, and Physics when I was fourteen. Since then, I've just been stopping myself from getting rusty. I didn't want to go to college early. Mrs. Hudson let me set up a lab in 221C to practice in."

"Any questions?"

The silence was deafening.

"Anyone up for Monopoly?" asked Lestrade.

After everyone left, John sat down and looked at Mary. "So, you are sort of like Sherlock."

"No. He was born. I was made. And I can't recognize different types of tobacco ash. I could tell you if a suspect was lying though."

Lestrade had mentioned having John look at a serial killer. Maybe Mary could help too. It would be like old times, except his companion would have some manners.

**A/N: GCSEs are a British exams that most student take when they are 16. A-levels are taken when they are 18.**

**BSL is British Sign Language. ASL is American Sign Language. Even though both counties speak English the two sign languages are very different.**

**Finally, I'd like to thank anamelinda and Theta-Mcbirde for reviewing.**


	7. Chapter 7

"It's not like I didn't love her. It's just I'd gotten used to her nor being in my life."

John looked up from his computer. Mary was sitting on the couch gauging his reaction.

"Who?" he asked.

"My mum," she stated like it should have been obvious, "From the age of six, I only saw her once a month, sometimes more. At ten, I started taking care of myself. I don't know. I guess I just feel I should be sadder."

John was grateful for the buzzing of his phone. What was he supposed to say to her?

"It's Lestrade. He had mentioned having me look at a serial killer case."

"Okay. I'll grab my bag."

oOoOoOoOoOo

"A backpack!"

"John just drop it. It's starting to get annoying."

"When you said you needed to grab a bag I thought you meant a purse."

"It's my first crime scene. I don't know what I'll need."

They reached the yellow tape. Donovan walked over.

"John," she said curtly, eyeing Mary, "and you are?"

"I'm Mary. It would be really nice to meet you under other circumstances."

"Other circumstances?" Donovan arched an eyebrow.

"There is a dead body."

John had to fake a coughing fit to cover up his snorts of laughter.

Donovan decided to let them under the tape and led them to the body. It was in the center of the park near some picnic tables. There was a bullet wound to the left temple and a gun in the man's right hand.

"Clearly, it is a botched fake suicide," said Lestrade, "Normally, we would treat it as any other murder case, but there have been a series of killings made to look like fake suicides over the past year all over the world. Mainly Europe, but some in Asia and America too."

Mary walked over to the Lestrade as John bent to look at the body.

"Definitely not shot by this gun. Wow this is terrible. It's like they were trying to be obvious about the fact that it was staged."

Mary giggled. John and Lestrade looked at her. She shook her head as gestured for John to continue.

"He was killed here. Probably from around here. Other than that. I can't see anything. He was killed here."

"He had a phone but it looks like it's been wiped," Lestrade added.

"Oh. I'll take that!" Mary exclaimed. She snatched the phone from Lestrade's hands. From her bag she produced a laptop, a mess of wires, and her phone. "I know you have WiFi, but I'd rather use my phone as a mobile hot spot. It scrambles the signal. Safer that way."

Before anyone could really process what she was doing, she plugged the phone into her computer and started typing furiously. "The phone was wiped remotely. From Belfast. Give it five minutes to chew through some numbers and I can give you precise coordinates."

"That's amazing," said John.

"Haven't heard you say that in a while," said Lestrade without thinking. John just nodded though.

Mary was looking closely at Lestrade. John recognized her deducing expression. She burst out into laughter.

"What?" asked Donovan, walking over to investigate the noise. She seemed unimpressed by Mary's laughter at a crime scene.

"Oh sorry. It's just…Your deodorant…"

"Mine?" asked Lestrade.

"Yes, it's not yours."

Lestrade went pink, "So?"

"I know whose it is," said Mary taking deep breaths to calm down. Then she turned and waved at the security camera on a near by lamppost. Donovan huffed and walked away.

"Well," Lestrade managed to grunt, "we'll have to go to Belfast. John, not to impose, but will you come too."

"I don't know Greg. Can Mary come?"

"I can't I just started an experiment, and I need to be there in two days or else it might spotantously combust. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I've been taking care of myself for six years," Mary correctly deduced the cause of John's apprehension.

It was decided that John and Lestrade would go to Belfast the next afternoon. John wondered aloud how they were going to get there.

Lestrade went crimson, "I…um…know of a…er…jet that we can use."

John had an idea of who the detective spent the night with, but when he asked (once they were back at 221B), Mary only said, "Not my place."


	8. Chapter 8

Lestrade arrived at 221B earlier than expected. John was still packing, so Mary offered him some tea while they waited. John came down with his bag across his good shoulder.

"Ready?" asked Lestrade. John nodded.

Mary walked them to the car. The whole time John reminded her of things. "Don't open the door unless you know who it is. If you leave and when you come back, you think someone may be in the house call Mycroft or the Yard."

"I know. I'll be fine." John, still unsatisfied, continued to list off anything that could go wrong, what she should do to stop it from happening, and what to do if it did happen.

"It's just Mrs. Hudson is in Scotland visiting her sister. I wish you weren't alone."

"I'll text you every time I wake up, whenever I leave the flat and when I get back. I'll call twice a day, and I'll have my gun on me the whole time. Mycroft will no doubt have CCTV on me at all times when I'm not home."

John pulled her into a hug. "You're all I have right now"

"You're all I have, too."

oOoOoOoOoOo

John looked over his shoulder at the shrinking figure of Mary. Lestrade looked away to give the doctor some privacy. John was the one to break the silence.

"So, what's with this plane you have on short notice?"

"A friend of mine has connections."

"So…Mycroft?" Who else had easy access to a plane? "But, I don't think he would give me a plane."

Lestrade's ears went red.

"Oh my god! I was right! Mary wouldn't tell me."

"She knew? No wonder she couldn't stop laughing."

_Going to Tesco's for milk. Then St. Bart's for some soft tissue. - MM_

Mary had been taking full advantage of her new contact (Molly) for her experiments.

The flight to Belfast was uneventful. When they landed, John had a text saying that Mary was home. Lestrade had five texts that made him blush.

They dumped their cases at the hotel before going to the police headquarters for Belfast. Everyone was more then happy to help and even lent them a police car to use while they were in the area. It shocked John how nice they were after his experiences at the Yard. (But, that may have been because of Sherlock) Mary had done a little extra work and found the phone that the wiping signal had been sent from. Mycroft had then found the address of the phone's owner.

The house was in the center of the city. A very old man opened the door. "How can I help you youngsters?"

"Hello, sir, I am DI Lestrade with Scotland Yard, and this is Doctor John Watson. Would you mind answering a few questions?" replied Lestrade.

The man invited them in. His name was Martin. He lived alone much to the worry of his daughter, who had given him a smartphone to stay in touch. He had no idea how to use it other than to call people, but he had lent it to a nice lad the other day.

"Do you know what he did on it?" asked John.

"Not a clue. Sorry. Just typed."

They thanked the man and left, but not after getting a full description of the stranger (very tall and very ginger). As they were walking back to the car, John's phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me," said Mary, "I'm just getting home and I thought I'd call. How's it going?"

John described what Martin had said.

"It'll be hard without a name but I'll tell Mycroft and I'll start looking at CCTV footage as soon as I get in," John heard the lock turn on the other end of the line, "Um, can I call you back?"

"Sure," John hung up. That was odd, but so was Mary. He was sure that everything was fine on Baker Street.


	9. Chapter 9

Mary watched the car pull away. Once it was out of sight, she went into 221C to work on her experiment with nitric acid and various soft tissues. She scowled; she didn't have enough samples to finish today, as she was planning. She wrote her observations in her notebook. All her notes were in code. Not because there was anything special about her work. It was just habit. Her mum had made her learn various codes and this was an easy way to practice.

Her mum. Mary hadn't known her very well, looking back. They had hardly seen each other. She wasn't even home for Christmas. While Mary was sad, it wasn't like there was a gaping hole in her life that needed to be filled.

John had a hole where Sherlock had been, and though neither of them mentioned it, John wouldn't have lasted much longer alone. She wasn't sure if she was filling the hole or just distracting him from it.

Mary finished her notes and cleaned-up the experiment, being careful to put all tissue in a bio-hazard bag. She checked a standing one for hydrogen gas and another for water vapor. Then, she went to make lunch.

They were out of milk. She had been craving cereal, and after weighing her options pulled on her coat and headed to the shop. On the way out she grabbed the bio-hazard bag to drop off at Bart's. Maybe she could also get some tissue from Molly.

_Going to Tesco's for milk. Then St. Bart's for some soft tissue. - MM_

The next day started out normal. Mary decided to go for a run. She finished her soft tissue experiment, took the hazardous waste to Bart's, and stayed to eat lunch with Molly.

She called John on the way home.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me," said Mary, "I'm just getting home and I thought I'd call. How's it going?"

John described what a witness had said.

"It'll be hard without a name but I'll tell Mycroft and I'll start looking at CCTV footage as soon as I get in," she said as she turned the lock. There was someone in the house, "Um, can I call you back?"

"Sure."

Mary ran through the options in her head. She could call Mycroft but there was no telling if she could get through. She didn't want to call the Yard; they were all stupid. She pulled her gun from her waistband and headed up the stairs.

There was a tall man trying to pick the lock to her room. "You won't be able to open that door." The man turned and took her in.

"Sixteen. Both parents dead, but didn't know them well. Lives here. Where's John?"

"He's not here. Why? What do you want with him?"

"I'm an old acquaintance."

"I bet you are, like the old acquaintance who broke in last time. That acquaintance would have killed John"

"Please put the gun down."

"No."

Mary looked at the man. He wouldn't hurt her. He had been traveling.

"You're hungry."

The man started. She was right, but how had she known. It was clearly not a question. He nodded.

"Tell me who you are while I make you a sandwich."

She led him to the kitchen. The man looked around. The last time he had been in this room there had been science equipment covering the table. He turned to look at the girl reaching for a plate. She was smart, and there was more to her than reached the eye. She had decided to trust him. He would therefore trust her, for now.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes."

Mary dropped the plate.

**A/N: I promise that this will be the only time I ask because I know haw annoying it can be but...**

**Please leave a review!**


	10. Chapter 10

Mary looked at Sherlock. He wasn't lying, or he didn't think he was lying. Either he was Sherlock, or he was a man who thought he was Sherlock. She knew that Sherlock had survived the fall (she was a genius), and the article in The Times a few months ago had said he was never actually a fake. But still, she wasn't sure how she felt about having him in her house. "If you are Sherlock, I'm going to make you some food, and then I'm going to take a nap. If you aren't please leave after I go to bed. I don't want to bring the police into this."

Sherlock nodded.

Mary made him something called a BLT, and went into his…no…HER room. Actually, he hand't slept in that room for about a year before the fall anyway. But, it was still his room. He walked over to examine the door again; he could not figure out how she looked it. There was no lock. His foot hit something hard and he looked down. By the door was his violin. Sherlock smiled as he took out the instrument. It took him awhile to tune (the violin hadn't been played in three years), but soon he was playing one of his favorite Bach suites.

Mary woke to the soft sounds of Mozart.

Sherlock is crying as he finishes the piece. It was one of John's favorites. Mary steps forward. She is reacting purely on instinct. She throws her arm around the teary detective.

Sherlock has never liked to be touched, but this girl's embrace makes him feel better.

She releases him and looks up. "We need to talk. Who knows?"

"Molly, and Irene Adler."

"Adler?"

"She's a friend, in the loosest sense of the word."

"So, Lestrade and Mycroft don't know?"

"No."

Mary looked into the sad eyes. She didn't want to make him hurt more, but she needed to know. "Why did you kill all those people?" Sherlock seemed surprised. "I'm not stupid. All the victims were clearly killed by the same person, but even Mycroft couldn't find anything. The only lead we had was a ginger man in Belfast. You have recently traveled and there are slight traces or dye in your hair. So, tell me."

"They were all part of Moriarty's web. The man in the park was named Sebastien Moran. He was the last one."

"You did it to keep John safe," Sherlock nodded, even though it wasn't a question, "You love him. Does he know? Were you, like, together? I thought you might have been more; he was so distraught…" she trailed off.

Sherlock nodded, "I loved, still love, him. I told him a year before I jumped."

They sat in silence. Sherlock was distinctly aware that Mary was studying him. "I'm not going to tell anyone."

"Which part?"

"Any of it. You can tell people when you are ready. I need to go to Bart's. Do you want to come?"

Sherlock was taken aback by the sudden change in topic. He couldn't get a read on this girl. He did want to see Molly. The last time he saw her was about a year ago. Mary ran grab her backpack, shoving in her laptop, before going downstairs to grab a black trash bag.

"What's in there?" asked Sherlock.

"Used kidneys."

Sherlock smiled. He liked this strange girl. She reminded him of himself when he was younger, but with better social skills.

Mary hailed a cab as she texted John that she was going out. Sherlock looked around the familiar area. There were new neighbors, and some of the shops had changed. He notices more as they drove to Bart's.

"What is this IBIS? Is a reference to a band or something? There is graffiti with to everywhere."

"It stands for 'I believe in Sherlock," smiled Mary, "It's everywhere online. I can't believe you haven't seen it."

Sherlock tried not to smile as London rolled past the windows. People he had never met had supported him. Molly had told him about the Times article saying that he was not a fake nor the criminal mastermind, but some this graffiti even dated back to before he jumped.

They arrived at Bart's. Mary payed the cabbie and led the way to the morgue.

"Molly?"

"Mary? What are you doing here?" Molly smiled.

"Oh, I brought some kidneys that need to be thrown away and an old friend go yours."

"Sherlock! When did you get back?"

"Today, I went to see John, but he wasn't home," replied Sherlock. He walked over and started a new experiment.

Molly rolled her eyes. She had gotten over Sherlock. He would always be important to her, but she no longer had any interest in dating him. She didn't know wether it was him telling her about John, or having him live with her for two months.

Mary pulled out her laptop. "I looked up the man your friend set you up with."

"Why would you do that?" asked Sherlock. He had been eavesdropping.

"Because after the fiasco with you-know-who, I thought it would be better to research the men I date a little. Originally, I would just Google them, but Mary has a better way."

Mary pulled up a window. "Okay. Let's see here. Only criminal record is a parking ticket two years ago. Never married. No children. Stable job. All in all I'd say a good catch. I can't say for sure until I meet him, but there are no red flags."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" squealed Molly. "But what are you going to do about John?" suddenly serious.

"What do you mean?" snapped Sherlock, looking up.

"He'll be upset enough that you weren't really dead, but now, it also looks like Mary lied too. You need to find the best way to break the news."

Everyone was silent for a moment.

"I think I may have an idea," said Mary, "It's a little crazy, but bare with me."

**A/N: Thanks to 2010 and Ryebred for the reviews. 3**


	11. Chapter 11

Mary glared at Sherlock. He was hogging the microscope again. She humphed and started cleaning what she could. Sherlock looked up. "Are you done already? Really Mary, you should look at those samples under the microscope before you finish."

Mary gave him a withering look, "I was going to after you were done with it."

Sherlock had never been good at sharing. He wordlessly slid the microscope over to her and watched as she focused on her first slide. It had barely been five minutes before he started to get bored.

"I'm nearly done Sherlock." How had she known? Would this girl ever stop surprising him? She was much smarter than he had first deduced. She would even delete things from her brain too. She chose to keep more than him, but she argued that Star Wars, whatever that was, was worth the brain space. She was also more attune to her feelings than him. Being away from John for so long, Sherlock had started to shut people off again.

Mary put her last sample under the microscope, and Sherlock not wanting to wait any longer started to wash up some of the beakers. Mary looked up in shock. She almost said something, but instead just joined Sherlock at the sink in 221C. In less time than Sherlock expected they were done. Maybe this cleaning as you went along was easier than letting it pile up until it was too much to live with.

They headed back up to 221B. Mary was in the middle of making a sandwich when her phone vibrated.

_On our way to the airport - JW_

_Ok going for a run. text me when you land - MM_

"It's time," she said to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded as Mary ran to her room to change into her running kit.

"Eat that," she said gesturing to the half made sandwich, "John land in less than an hour. I'll call him as I get home. Remember the plan."

"'corse." Sherlock watched Mary jog down the street. He sat at the table. He didn't know what to do for the next hour. Mary had to been seen by Mycroft running on the CCTV for the plan to work. With nothing else to do, he ate the sandwich.

oOoOoOoOoOo

As Mary entered the flat, she called John.

"Hello?"

"Hi! It's Mary. How was the flight?"

"It was pretty good. We're about five minutes away."

"Ok. I'm just getting in now."

John hummed in response.

"Actually, John?"

"Yes? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know just hurry, please. I've got to go."

She hung up. "Five minutes Sherlock!" While she was gone, Sherlock had been mentally preparing in his mind palace for the rush of emotion seeing John again would being. Mary saw the pain on his face; she wrapped her arms around him in a way that was slowly getting familiar. Sherlock had never willingly let someone hug him other than John, ever.

There was the sound of a cab pulling up. John was shouting into his phone, "I don't care Mycroft! This is Mary! Get someone here now!"

Mary looked Sherlock in the eye. He nodded. Mary pulled her gum and started yelling.

"I don't care who you are! Get out of my flat or I will shoot you!"

Sherlock pulled his gun too. "What have you done with him? If you hurt him, I swear I will kill you and every person who is working with you!"

"I haven't done anything! You're the one who broke in!"

"Where's John?"

"Why do you want to know? Do you want to hurt him? I would die for John Watson!"

Sherlock looked into Mary's eyes; she saw the raw pain in his heart, "I have died for John Watson."

There was a choking sound. Both turned to see John. "Sherlock?" he sounded unsure, "Mary put the gun down, you too Sherlock."

He walked towards them. He stopped at Mary first, "You okay?"

She nodded, and John walked up to the tall detective. Mary made a squeaky gasping sound as John pulled back a hand and punched Sherlock, fully, in the face.

Sherlock stepped back from both the force and shock. Before he could fully recover, John was kissing him. It was violent and messy and all the things that Sherlock had missed about John.

Mary quietly left the room to shower. Before washing off the sweat of her run, she sent off a quick text to Mycoft.

_Don't worry. Everything is more than fine here now - MM_


	12. Chapter 12

Life at 221B was starting to get routine, or as routine as it could be. It had been a week since John and Sherlock had been reunited. They told Mycroft and Lestrade the next day, and Mrs. Hudson when she came back from Scotland. It John's opinion everything was perfect. Well, almost everything.

Mary had been acting odd. She spent more and more time in her room or out of the house. Sherlock said that she never went down to 221C anymore. Frankly, John was worried about her. She was still dealing with some complex emotions, so he sent Sherlock to Bart's one morning while Mrs. Hudson had brunch with some friends.

He knocked on Mary's bedroom door. "Mary? Can you come out? I need to talk to you."

Mary opened the door. She looked like she may have been crying, but it could have been the light. She wordlessly sat at the kitchen table. "I know."

"You know? How can you know?"

"You want me to leave," Mary looked at him with tears in her eyes, "Sherlock is back. You want things to go back to the way they were before. That can't happen with me here."

John stared at her. This was what she had been upset about. It all made sense now. "Mary, look at me. I would never ask you to leave. I would never want you to leave." Mary just looked at him with sad eyes. "Wait here," he commanded gently. He took the steps two at a time to his and Sherlock's room. He rummaged in his bedside draw for a second before finding the file. He bounded back to the kitchen.

"Here," he panted, out of breath, "I never want you to go."

Mary looked through the forms in the file. "Adoption forms?"

John nodded, "I probably should have asked before filling them out, but Greg gave them to me from Mycroft on the plane, so I did it then. I was going to talk to you about it when I got home, but Sherlock was here. And then you were avoiding everyone, I thought you were having some bad days and needed space."

"What does Sherlock think?"

John smiled and pulled out a paper and pointed to the signature. "He insisted that he be named your 'legal personal guardian', so should anything ever happen to me, he could be the one to take care of you." Mary burst into tears and flung her arms around John. "Is this a yes?"

"Yes, John Watson, I would be thrilled if you became my dad."

At that moment Sherlock burst in, "We have a case. Let's go! Scotland Yard can't wait!" He saw Mary and John, "Happy tears?"

"Yes Sherlock, happy tears," said Mary pulling him into a hug, "Now, what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

John wasn't sure that they should take Mary, but she insisted that they needed her. Sherlock had somehow managed to side with her and back John up at the same time. "We could use her John, but she is your responsibility."

In the end, they agreed that she could come to Scotland Yard and the crime scene, but she would not accompany them if they were chasing a criminal or there was a large chance of danger.

Lestrade had only called after they had apprehended a suspect, but he wouldn't talk. It had actually been Donovan who suggested calling Sherlock, but he had promised not to mention it to anyone, ever.

The suspect was in an interrogation room. His son was sitting in Lestrade's office. Donovan was interrogating, while Lestrade was forced to babysit a sullen teenager. When he saw Sherlock arrive, he got up, making sure to close the door behind him. He directed Sherlock to the interrogation room, but Sherlock had insisted that Lestrade come to. John offered to watch the boy while the two men went and terrified the suspect.

Mary wasn't sure whether to follow Sherlock or John when her phone buzzed.

_Find out what you can from the boy - SH_

Well, that answered that question.

**A/N: Thanks to Isildur's Heiress for reviewing!**


	13. Chapter 13

As Mary walked into the office, she saw John trying to have a conversation with a sulking teenage boy. John clearly didn't know what to say and was about to launch into a detailed explanation of the bones in the leg when Mary interrupted.

"Hello," her voice cheery, "I see you've met John. I'm Mary, and you are?"

"Matt," the boy grunted, "But my friends call me Uncle Kickass."

"No one calls you Uncle Kickass."

Mary sized the boy up. Average in most respects. Good grades but slipping due to his increasing obsession with video games; they would come back up by the end of the year, once his parents took his X-Box, no PS3, away. He loved to play rugby, but only for fun. He had a small but close knit group of friends, a crush who didn't notice him, and a younger sister.

"Why aren't you in school?" she asked.

"I could ask the same of you," he replied testily.

"I asked first."

"I was suspended."

"Why?"

"For talking back to a teacher."

"Why?"

"What is this 20 Questions?"

"Maybe."

"Fine. He said something sexist to a girl about her feminism essay. I told him that he shouldn't talk like that. I got suspended."

"How did your parents feel about it?"

"They were more mad at the school than me. Especially my dad, he kept going on about setting a good example for future generations."

"Thank you. That was very helpful," she turned on her heel and marched out the door.

"What was that?" asked Matt, stunned. John just shook his head, smiling.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Mary knocked on the door as she opened it. Sherlock and Donovan were seated across from a man, presumably Matt's father going by bone structure, in the interrogation room.

"Well?" asked Sherlock.

"High respect for women. Good, loving father. Not the killer."

Sherlock nodded he had thought as much. The killer had clearly held women in low regard. This man was not like that. He had visibly flinched when Sherlock insulted Donovan.

"Then who did it?" asked Lestrade, frustrated by the two geniuses.

"It was a random act of violence. No planning. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," sighed Sherlock, "Boring!" and huffed out.

"Sorry," sighed Mary, "If you need anything, my number is in your cell."

Lestrade nodded, not even bothering to ask how her number was in his phone.

**A/N: Sorry this is short it's just been one of those weeks...**


	14. Chapter 14

"So one of the parents at this school," he pointed to one picture, "thinks that this chemistry teacher, is making crystal meth in his lab."

"A bit Breaking Bad, don't you think? And, I though it was decided it was a random act of violence." asked John.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and continued, "So Mary is going to enroll and take his class. She'll be able to look around. John, you can enroll her tomorrow. And, I told you new evidence appeared. I told you."

"When?"

"Last week."

"I was taking Mary to that robotics convention in Paris!"

"Not my fault you weren't listening."

Mary giggled.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and continued, "So Mary is going to enroll and take his class. She'll be able to look around. John, you can enroll her tomorrow."

Mary stopped laughing. "I am not going to school," she frowned, "What does this have to do with the murder anyway?"

"Mary," sighed John.

"The teacher who is making the drugs is neighbours with the victim. If she were to have found out, that would be motive for murder. I need to know the extent of their relationship," Sherlock interrupted their bickering.

"Okay. On one condition."

"Yes."

"I get to do the bone marrow experiment."

"Fine," sighed John, "but only with supervision from Molly or Mike. Sherlock doesn't count, not after what happened last time."

"I'll do it, but I won't pretend to like it."

"Oh, you won't. They're all idiots," piped in Sherlock.

The next day, John called the school asking if he could enrol Mary for the start of spring term. It started in five days which consisted of forms, shopping, and planning. Mary needed a uniform and books for school, but she also insisted that they visit a shady alleyway store to buy special bugging equipment. Mycroft then confiscated the cameras and microphones, and after a long shouting match between the him and Mary, Anthea snuck Sherlock some from her stash. Mary drilled a small hole into the bridge of some glassses and placed in a small wireless camera, that would record onto her laptop. She also set up an encrypted live stream of Sherlock and John could watch.

John had forms to fill out. He originally put Mary Morstan. She looked hurt for days, until Sherlock surreptitiously changed it to Mary Watson. "She is your daughter now."

Finally, it was Mary's first day of school, ever.

"How are you feeling?" asked John as the cab pulled away from 221B.

"Nervous. I know i shouldn't by. I probably know more than the teachers and I know enough about social mannerisms and facial expressions to make someone think they like me, but what if no one does? What if they think I'm stupid or weird?"

John was shocked by her sudden openness. Mary was always in control of her emotions, even when she had nightmares. "It'll be fine. Not everyone will like you, but that's okay."

He continued to answer her nervous questions until they reached a large brick building. Mary gave a small smile and got ready to leave, "Well, bye, then."

"Have fun. Be yourself. Don't show up the teachers to much."

**A/N: I'm sorry this is so short, but I obviously haven't been able to write for awhile (sorry about that too). So, I'm starting off slow to get back in the swing of things.**


End file.
